


A Better Way to Fuck

by celli



Series: emjonjon [1]
Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Misuse of Ad Slogans, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 01:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12877149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: Emily is on board. Listen, you don’t date, let alone marry Jon Favreau without knowing his feelings for Jon Lovett are more complicated than he lets on when Lovett is in the room.





	A Better Way to Fuck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleMousling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMousling/gifts).



> The usual: please don't let on that this exists to anyone mentioned in it! Thank you!

"Listen," Lovett says, waving an emerald green dildo hard enough to send Emily into another round of giggles, "you are a basic woman with basic tastes and I love that about you, but you were wrong about your mixer and you're wrong about this."

“Baloney,” she says. “My mixer is just the right shade of blue for my kitchen and pink is practically neutral in this situation.”

They’re at Emily’s favorite sex shop, full of friendly mostly-female staff and high-grade silicone. Jon claims this is his favorite, too, despite having never set a foot inside - he does definitely appreciate everything she brings back for him, though. Emily considers herself relatively sophisticated in the matter of adult entertainment, but when one’s husband has finally admitted that what he’d really, really like to try is pegging, expert help is needed. In the form of, in Lovett’s own words, “your friendly neighborhood gay guy.”

And if one’s husband, to be blunt, might be interested in banging said expert as well? Emily is on board. Listen, you don’t date, let alone marry Jon Favreau without knowing his feelings for Jon Lovett are more complicated than he lets on when Lovett is in the room. So she can combine a shopping trip with a scouting mission. 

“Anything but pink,” Lovett says.

“Pink,” Emily says.

“Maybe I should text Jon and ask him,” Lovett threatens.

“Maybe you should,” Emily fires back, and is that a _blush_ on Jonathan Lovett’s face right now?

The scouting mission, it turns out, is a resounding success. The shopping trip is nearly so, except she does end up getting the green dildo because she was too busy internally gloating to fight hard enough. It’s fine. She has bigger arguments to win.

***

Emily closes her front door and stands there for a minute, lost in thought.

“Everything okay?”

“Hi! Yes.” She turns and leans up into Jon’s kiss. “Just thinking about my very successful shopping trip.”

“Oh _really_.” Jon traps her against the door and kisses her harder. “Tell me more.”

“Lovett and I argued about the right,” she grinds up against him and he makes a muffled noise into her hair, “the right equipment for you.”

“Who won the argument?” Jon asks.

Emily grins at him. “I always win, you know that,” she says and tells him her plan.

***

“No.”

“Lovett--”

_“Emily.”_

“I thought you wanted to help,” Emily says in a voice not calculated to fool anyone.

Lovett makes a sound that’s not really a laugh, but isn’t really anything else either. “Emily, for fuck’s sake, your husband doesn’t want me to--”

“You’re on speaker,” Jon says from behind Emily. His voice is calm but he’s got an unbreakable grip on Emily’s hand.

There’s a long pause.

“Lovett?” Jon asks.

“I - I need a moment to process. I think you broke me.” There’s a soft thudding noise that Emily hopes is not his head hitting something. “All right, you can--you can keep me on speaker. And you’d better plug it in,” Lovett sounds nearly himself by this point, “because I’m damn well going to have something to say. You know, to ‘help.’”

***

Emily eases a second finger into Jon, keeping the other hand firm on his stomach. He’s spread out on his back in front of her, a little glassy-eyed and unable to keep still, shifting under and around her hands. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” she tells him, trying to keep her own trembling under control. She’s still wearing her bra and panties - out of some vague sense of modesty, or because she couldn’t be bothered when she had this to look at, or some combination of the two.

"You're going to like this part - now curl your fingers," Lovett says over the phone, and Jon makes this _noise_ that goes straight to Emily's gut. 

"Jesus," she says. 

"Told you," Lovett says, but even he sounds shaken.

Emily's had sex with Jon a lot of times in a lot of ways, but she doesn't think she's ever felt quite as powerful as she does right this moment.

Lovett talks her through it until she’s fucking Jon with three fingers. Jon is flushed head to toe, one hand pulling on his cock in time with her movements, and making these needy helpless noises he’s probably unconscious of. Emily gets lightheaded whenever she looks at him too closely, so she concentrates on the steady movement of her hand.

“I bet you could go harder,” Lovett says, “maybe add another finger. I bet Jon can take it.”

Jon makes another one of those punched-out noises.

“I bet he can,” Emily says, following through. She eyes the phone. “My hands are so small. It’s not like he has your fingers in him.”

Jon _whines._

There’s a long silence, then Lovett lets out a laugh that’s more of a puff of air. “Goddammit, Favs, I think you married the devil.”

“I’m good with it,” Jon manages. Too verbal, Emily decides, and aims directly for his prostate on her next thrust.

Jon hunches up into himself and comes all over himself.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” Emily tells Jon; that definitely gets a noise from Lovett, but she barely registers it. She pulls her hand out carefully and stretches over Jon to kiss him. He slowly comes back to himself as she deepens the kiss, running a hand down her stomach and into her underwear.

“You’re so wet,” he says, and she shivers.

“Do something about it.”

His hands tight on her hips are all the warning she gets before he flips her onto her back and goes down on her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she gets out before he drives her straight to an orgasm.

When she can tell up from down again, Jon is sprawled across her with his head on her stomach and Lovett is laughing.

“I don’t think you’ve ever screamed before,” Jon says, just a little bit of awe in his voice.

“I, uh, haven’t.”

Lovett laughs harder. “Not that we all haven’t had a fantastic time here, but did anyone remember that pegging was on the to-do list?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Jon says, and bites her just above the navel when she starts laughing too.

“Apparently we need to work up to these things,” she says. “Next time, right?”

There’s a brief silence, then Lovett says, “Wait, are you asking me?”

“Yes,” Emily says at the same time as Jon.

There’s a longer pause, and Emily exchanges a nervous look with Jon. Then Lovett says, “Jon Lovett: A Better Way to Fuck,” and Jon and Emily both burst into delighted (relieved) laughter. “Fine, fine,” Lovett says, just a little smug. “Next time.”

***

The day after That Night is Sunday, and Tommy and Hanna are throwing a BBQ. Jon and Lovett do their usual nod/head duck when they see each other, but Emily makes a point of tracking Lovett down where he’s sitting in a lawn chair under a tree, alternately glaring at and ignoring the people daring to be near him and tapping furiously on his phone.

“Brought you a beer,” she says, dropping down next to him.

He gives her a literal side-eye, and she has to fight hard not to laugh at him. “Is this the talk where you check in on me to make sure everything’s cool and we’re all still friends?”

“No, because I knew that already.”

His suspicious look stays, but he does take the beer.

For a minute, Emily thinks about leaving it there and walking away, but she has a plan and a stubborn streak, so she says, “I am actually here to invite you over next Saturday.”

“Okay, but SNL is a rerun, right?”

Emily looks at him. “Lovett.”

“What...oh!” he says in a much higher register. “Wait, what the fuck, Emily, are you kidding me?”

She takes a sip of her wine. “I am not.”

“Listen,” he says, ticking numbers off on his hand, “one, me showing up in person is a bad idea. Two, you don’t actually need my help, that’s bullshit. Three, this is a _really bad_ idea.”

“One,” she says, holding up a finger, “you can say no at any time and I’ll never talk about it again. Two, I have the Internet. I never needed your help, I wanted it. Three, I didn’t just make this up, I talked about it with Jon. A lot. We want you.”

“You want me there,” he says.

“We want you,” she says. He’s holding his beer so tightly his knuckles are going white. “Just think about it. You have a week to make up your mind. And then,” she says, dropping her voice, “I’m fucking my husband, whether you’re around or not.”

“Well, thanks for the info, please go away!” Lovett says brightly.

***

“How did it go?” Jon asks on the drive home. Emily likes that he doesn’t hide his nerves about this whole thing from her, but--

“It would have been better if you had done it.”

Jon scoffs. “Yeah, because me talking to Lovett about _feelings_ works oh so well.”

“Jonathan Edward,” she snaps, exasperated, and then can’t help but smile a little at the look of trepidation on his face. “Seriously, are you doing this just because I suggested it or are you _doing_ this?”

He flexes his hands on the steering wheel. “You know I am.”

“Yeah, but does Lovett know?”

“Emily, how can he not know?” He looks over and slumps a little at her expression. “I’ll think about it.”

She rolls her eyes. “You two are very, very, _very_ lucky you have me.”

“Amen,” Jon says fervently.

***

Jon is surprisingly chill when Lovett makes a see-through excuse for not coming over for Bachelor Monday. “He looked a little pale all day. I think he just needs some time.”

“The pod sounded fine,” she says.

“We had to re-record a couple of ads,” he says. He collapses on the couch with a sigh and toes his shoes off. “But, you know, Lovett gets his emotions out through the ads sometimes.”

That is a true fact. He still owes them a bottle of wine, really. 

“Well,” Emily says, swinging a leg over to straddle him, “we can probably find a way to keep busy without him.” She leans in to kiss him.

Jon slides a hand up her hip and makes a soft, pleased noise when he discovers that she’s naked under her dress. She makes the same noise when he scratches his nails lightly down her side.

“I love you, you know,” he says as she’s fighting her way out of her dress.

“I know,” she says, tossing it to the side and pushing her hair back. “Hey, what is that face? I _know_ , Jon.” She cups his face in her hands and leans down to kiss him, shivering a little at the way his jeans scratch along her thighs.

“I know you know,” he says against her lips. “I just don’t want you to think that this thing with Lovett--”

“Stop.” She kisses him again, and some more, until he relaxes under her. “I love him too, you know. It’s okay.”

His arms tighten almost painfully around her. 

***

By Thursday, Lovett has started “working from home,” his jokes on the commercials don’t quite land even though Tommy and Jon keep laughing at them, and he doesn’t even text back a thumbs up emoji when Emily sends him the latest masterpiece from the florist by her office. She and Jon spend the evening silently on the couch, pretending to read their tablets, Emily’s feet in Jon’s lap.

Friday morning the text notification goes off on both their phones just before Jon’s alarm. Emily rolls over half-asleep and peers at her phone.

 **Lovett:** what time sat

Emily reaches out and grabs Jon’s hand. He grips back just as hard.

Before either of them can type anything back, their phones ping in unison again.

 **Tommy:** Are we doing a thing?

 **Me:** no  
**Jon:** no  
**Lovett:** yes  
**Lovett:** no  
**Lovett:** wrong text group, sorry

 **Tommy:** …  
**Tommy:** Good talk. See you at the office.

***

Emily and Jon spend Saturday running errands with the single-minded ferocity of people who don’t want time to think and, uh, might not be up to much on Sunday. By the time both cars are washed, all the groceries are put away, and the leftovers from their barely-touched dinner are in the fridge, Emily is practicing the deep breathing exercises Hanna helped her with just before the wedding and Jon is pacing the length of the hallway, occasionally checking Twitter on his phone.

The doorbell rings and they both freeze, Emily on the couch and Jon halfway down the hall, staring at each other. Then Lovett calls from the other side of the door, “I brought wine!” and they lurch back into action.

“You startled us,” Emily says, pulling the door open. “I didn’t think you knew we had a doorbell.”

“What,” Lovett asks, peering at it, “it’s not just an on button for Sonos?” He smirks at her, but there are clearly nerves just under the surface. Emily presses a hand to her stomach to quiet the matching butterflies.

She takes the wine from his hand and he shoves both hands in his pockets - he’s in his good jeans and a logo-free T-shirt. “Thank you,” she says. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek; when she pulls back, he’s clearly blushing. “Glass for you? I’m definitely having one.”

“God, yes, please,” he says.

Emily takes the bottle to the kitchen island, turning to keep Jon and Lovett in sight as they do an awkward dance around each other. Jon, maybe catching the encouragement she’s willing in his direction, leans down and says something right into Lovett’s ear. Lovett’s eyes half-close for a second before he peers over at Emily; she gives him a thumbs-up behind Jon’s back and Lovett chokes on a laugh.

“What?” Jon asks, turning around.

“I--uh--I’m just aghast at the quantity of wine she’s pouring for us,” Lovett says, walking over to the kitchen. He’s still blushing but otherwise he seems pretty himself. “I can dump out some flowers and give you a vase if you want it all for yourself, Emily.”

She barely keeps back a crack about sharing, but from their faces both Jon and Lovett thought of it too. They all drink a little faster than usual.

“So,” Emily says halfway through her glass. The other two just stare at her and she sighs. Does she have to do all the emotional labor around here? There’s gotta be a shortcut.

She drinks most of the rest of her wine, pondering, then grins and leans forward, blatantly spilling it on Jon’s shirt.

“Emily!” Jon yelps. 

“Oh no,” she says in a bad imitation of Lovett’s bad imitation of a Russian accent. “Your shirt, I have ruined it. Perhaps you should take it off so KGB can launder it.”

Jon just stares at her. 

Lovett is sputtering into his wineglass. “Oh my God, I think I got wine up my nose, and it was worth it,” he says. “Favs--take your shirt off before she comes after you with the kitchen shears, for fuck’s sake. Here.” 

He sets his wine down and starts on Jon’s button-down. Jon’s eyes are still wide. Emily grabs his wine before he drops it and then finishes it off for him, because doesn’t she deserve it, really?

She puts both glasses down as Jon grabs Lovett’s hand halfway down his chest and looks at him in a way that makes her toes curl. Jon reaches his free hand out to Emily and pulls her in close on his other side. She only gets the briefest look at Lovett’s uncertain expression before Jon dips his head and kisses him. She buries her face in Jon’s shoulder. If he wants her close, she wants to be close, but this moment is Lovett’s, not hers.

Just as she starts to feel awkward and alone despite Jon’s hand tight on her waist, Lovett shifts next to her and takes her hand. She peeks out to see him, still kissing Jon, open his eyes and look at her.

She grins at him. His eyes crinkle. It gives her the push she needs to join in; she leans up to kiss Jon right above his collarbone. One kiss turns into two turns into sucking a hickey into his neck. He groans into Lovett’s mouth; Lovett tightens his grip on Emily’s hand. Emily feels lit up from the inside with their energy.

Jon breaks away from Lovett for a moment and gives Emily a hard openmouthed kiss. She blinks at him, dazed, when he pulls away.

“I think, um--holy fuck, I can’t think, there’s no blood left in my brain. Um. Bedroom.”

“Seconded,” Emily says.

Lovett nods fervently. “I was promised some very specific things, and I think the bedroom is best suited for that sort of thing.”

“Oh, were you?” Jon asks.

“Oh, _was_ I,” Lovett says. He’s still holding Jon’s hand as well as Emily’s and starts to walk backwards, towing the two of them with him. “Does Emily need to bring more wine, too? I believe you need to be naked for the things in question to happen. Also because I’ve wanted to see you naked since 2009.”

“What was wrong with me in 2008?” Jon asks, genuinely outraged, and Emily and Lovett don’t stop giggling til they hit the bedroom door.

Jon is the easiest to get naked, since both Emily and Lovett have a vested interest in it. Emily doesn’t miss the way Lovett’s eyes get a little glazed when he gets Jon’s pants off; she probably looked the same once upon a time. Or every time, she’s stupidly in love. Jon’s not perfectly built or perfectly proportioned or perfectly anything, but he’s just--eye-crossingly beautiful when he stands there, a little awkward but with a hopeful smile on his face.

“Your fucking eye crinkles,” Lovett says, and Emily doesn’t even laugh because she is entirely on board that train.

Jon does laugh, and then sort of wrings his hands in front of him. “Could someone else join me here, please?”

Lovett looks over at Emily. She turns her back to him and tugs on the top of her zipper. “Can I get a hand, Lovett?”

He mumbles something under his breath but then he’s right there behind her, awkwardly pulling the zipper down. The dress basically falls off her and, no, she’s not wearing anything else.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” Lovett says.

By the time she turns around, Lovett has his shirt half off and Jon is already working on his jeans, so she’s got to agree with Lovett on escalation. She goes down on one knee to get Lovett’s shoes and socks off before they all get tangled in one giant not very sexy knot.

Lovett tries to help Emily up as Jon tries to push Lovett’s pants down and they get tangled up anyway, though this is pretty much in the sexy way. Emily steals a kiss from Jon as Lovett works the rest of the way out of his jeans, and he puts one hand on her waist and the other hand on Jon’s. He rests his chin on Emily’s shoulder; she peers sideways to see him grinning. “All right, then,” he says. “Nudity achieved. Eventually.”

Jon leans down and kisses him. Emily wriggles away after a moment and goes for her stash.

She expected the whole business of tightening the straps around her hips and fastening the dildo to be somewhere between embarrassing and clinical, but mostly she’s just so excited she has to concentrate extra hard because her hands want to shake.

She turns around and both Jon and Lovett are stock still, staring at her, hands slack on each other’s arms. Her blush is probably visible from the Hollywood sign.

Lovett drags Jon across the room and manhandles him until he’s directly behind Emily. “Hold on,” Lovett says, and goes down on one knee in front of her. He keeps his eyes on Jon over Emily’s shoulder as he slowly, showily, sucks the tip of the dildo into his mouth.

Jon grabs onto Emily’s hips hard. “Fucking fuck.” Emily puts her hands over his and digs in a little with her fingernails, locking her knees in place.

Lovett pulls off and wipes his mouth, looking extra smug.

“Okay,” Emily breathes, trying to get her metaphorical feet back under her. She tugs on Jon’s wrist. “On the bed, you two.”

Prepping Jon is exactly like and nothing at all like last time, especially when she convinces Lovett to help for real this time. He slides a finger in next to her two and Jon makes a sudden painful-looking grab for the base of his dick.

“You’d better not,” Emily warns.

“You’d better hurry,” Jon groans.

She slides into Jon with one of Lovett’s hands on her back and they all just --it feels like they hang in midair for a moment, just breathing. Emily’s own arousal seems almost like a distant thing right now; the only thing that feels real is the way Jon’s legs flex when she bottoms out, and the way Lovett’s hair brushes her arm when he drops his forehead to Jon’s chest.

Jon, she discovers with delight, makes the same punched out “ _ah_ ” sounds that she does when he’s being fucked just right. She braces herself and pushes into him harder. Lovett has one hand on Jon’s cock and the other on his own, and he actually comes just a moment before Jon does.

“Thank fuck,” she says, and slides out of Jon a little faster than she probably should, her hands slipping on the straps as she works them out enough to make room for her hand. “Fuck--fuck-- _fu-uck_ \--” and the room is suddenly loud with everyone’s harsh breathing.

***

Emily wakes up slowly; she can see very faint sunlight through the window. Next to her, Jon is face-to-face with Lovett, and the two are talking quietly to each other between kisses. She smiles.

“No, Tommy knows,” Jon’s saying.

“Did he talk to you?” Lovett asks.

“No, but he’s known us for like a decade, Lovett. He can tell.”

“Well, if you’d stop looking at me like that he might not have guessed.”

“And how do I look at you?”

“Like--” Lovett breaks off when Jon kisses him, but he can’t be stopped. “Like you’re starving and I’m a steak. Like you’re in a desert and I’m water. Like--”

“Close enough,” Jon says and kisses him again.

Emily hums and presses up against Jon’s back.

“Good morning,” Jon says over his shoulder.

“Good morning, you two,” Emily says. Lovett puts a hand in the air and waggles his fingers in Emily’s direction; she and Jon both giggle.

Jon kisses Lovett again, pulling him half on top of Jon. Emily runs her hands up and down Jon’s back and sides. Lovett shivers when Emily’s fingers brush his sides.

Lovett gasps when Jon frees his mouth to bite down his throat. “Where’s - ah - where’s the lube? Ah - Favs, under the collar line, under the collar line!”

Emily fumbles around and finds the lube under Jon’s pillow. She pours herself a generous amount and passes it to Lovett.

Slick sounds and groans ensue. Emily props herself up enough to see Lovett and Jon with their hands on each other’s cocks. Jon is sucking on Lovett’s collarbone, and Lovett’s head is back, eyes closed tight.

She lets herself take it all in for a minute, then slides back down and slicks up her fingers. She slides a hand up along Jon’s balls and lets her fingers slide briefly along Lovett’s at the base of Jon’s dick. Jon says something inaudible and probably profane. She can hear Lovett breathing hard.

Emily pulls her hand back, adds more lube, and slides two fingers into Jon. He’s still a little open from before and they slide in easily. She draws them along his prostate and presses firmly.

“Jesus, Em, fuck, fuck, Jesus, Lo, I can’t, I can’t--” Emily feels Jon start to jerk back and forth between the two of them and tries to time her thrusts to it. Jon keeps swearing, Lovett groans, and Emily feels Jon clench around her fingers as he comes.

Emily slides her fingers free. Her other hand is already busy between her legs, the extra lube making her fingers smooth against her clit. She presses an open-mouthed kiss to Jon’s back, panting against his skin. Jon’s arm is still busy on Lovett’s cock. He twists his head around, and Emily pulls herself up enough to kiss him. She and Lovett cry out at almost the exact same time, and Jon laughs into her mouth.

“Good morning, indeed,” she says. Lovett laughs.

 

***

Emily spends Sunday night in a giggly good mood that really doesn’t fit with the grimness of Game of Thrones. Jon is even worse than her; Lovett keeps poking him to get him to stop moving, which makes Jon giggle even more _and_ “casually” pull a blanket down on his lap after about the fourth go-round.

Tommy is sprawled on the floor with pot stickers and curious dogs, but Emily can see him looking over at them quizzically. She hides her face in Jon’s shirt and pretends to watch the show (she’s going to have to re-watch it on her day off, she has no idea what’s going on).

“Holy shit,” Tommy says at the end, and Lovett nods enthusiastically. Both Jon and Emily nod, too, but it’s clear to Emily that Jon lost track too.

“Yes, that was definitely something,” Jon says solemnly, and Emily can’t help it, she starts giggling again.

“Yeah, I’m out of here,” Tommy says. He pauses and looks up at the three of them. Emily can’t quite figure out the look on his face. “I hope you guys know what you’re doing.”

Jon clears his throat. “Tommy--”

“I don’t want to _know_!” Tommy throws up a hand. “I’m just saying.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, I’m just the boytoy in this situation,” Lovett says.

“So out of here!” Tommy nearly trips over Pundit on his hurry out the door.

“Lovett,” Jon says when Tommy is safely gone, “you’re not our boytoy.”

“Oh, I don’t mind being your boytoy, Favs,” Lovett says in what is probably supposed to be a sexy voice. He launches himself at Jon, pushing him back into Emily and them both flat on the couch.

Emily laughs again. She can’t help it.

Jon is trying to keep on message. “I just want you to know--”

“Favs? Shut up,” Lovett says, and kisses him.

***

Emily pokes her head in the door of the office. “Am I interrupting? Tanya says I’m not interrupting.”

“Well, hey there,” Jon says, popping up from his desk to come kiss her. “You can interrupt me any time.”

“God, they’re adorable,” Lovett says to Tommy, who snickers and goes back to his laptop.

“How’s your day off?” Jon asks.

“Great! I slept in, Leo and I went for a long walk, and I thought maybe I could steal Lovett away from you for lunch?”

“Me?” Lovett looks endearingly startled.

“Come on,” Emily says. “We haven’t had lunch—” _since all this started_ , she tries to convey wordlessly “—in a couple of weeks. How am I supposed to have a good day off without my favorite lunch date?”

“Oh, well, if I’m your _favorite_ ,” Lovett says, but he’s getting up. Emily squeezes Jon’s hand in lieu of a high five; he grins and kisses her.

“Have fun, guys,” he says.

***

“So I know what _this_ conversation is,” Lovett says after they’ve exhausted the Bachelorette, Pundit and Leo, and Monday’s pod ads.

“Probably,” Emily says with a smile.

“I’m okay! I am more than okay,” Lovett says, and they grin at each other foolishly. “You don’t have to keep checking up on me.”

“We do both communicate for a living,” Emily points out. “I like to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Call it a character flaw.”

Lovett points his fork at her. “I think the better question is, are you okay with it all?”

“I am! Wait, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Ha, see how you like it,” Lovett crows. Emily laughs. “But seriously. This is a big thing you’re doing for Favs. I’m impressed.”

“I’m not--I mean, yes, but--” Emily breaks off as a group of six crowds into the table next to them, already chattering at high volume and calling out drink orders. “Shit.”

“Should we switch to coded phrases?” Lovett asks. “The raven flies at midnight. Sexily.”

“We will discuss this further,” she says. “You can’t get away from me, Jonathan.”

He winks at her. “In the meantime, I have some Game of Thrones theories to run by you…”

***

Emily is just throwing her gym clothes in the laundry when her phone pings.

 **Jon:** should I invite Lovett in?  
**Me:** you bet  
**Jon:** on our way home

Jon and Lovett come through the door laughing, but Lovett looks over at Emily with a hopeful look. She grins at him. Jon plucks Lovett’s phone from his hand and pushes him against the door. 

“Stay put.”

Lovett puts his hands in the air. “Staying." 

Emily ushers Pundit out to the yard with Leo and hurries back to see what Jon has in mind. 

Jon is already down on his knees in front of Lovett, whose hands are still wavering in the air. "Now, I haven't done this since before I met you, but it's all muscle memory, right?“ he asks, unbuttoning Lovett’s jeans. 

Emily props herself up against the wall by the door, inches from Lovett and Jon. “You should ask him how often he’s thought about doing it, though,” she tells Lovett.

“Um,” Lovett’s voice is a little higher than usual. “Like, in general, or--”

Jon looks up as he pulls Lovett’s jeans and boxers down. “No.”

“Oh. Okay. _Fuck_ ,” Lovett spits out as Jon swallows him down.

Emily leans in. “He likes my hands in his hair,” she says, and Lovett carefully, carefully threads his fingers into Jon’s hair. Jon moans around his cock and Lovett’s eyes roll back a little. 

“Does he like - oh, God - does he like when you pull?”

“Good guess,” Emily says, and she can see Lovett’s fingers curl.

Jon pulls off and leans back a little, panting, tears starting at the corners of his eyes.

“Should I not--” Lovett starts and Jon shakes his head.

“Jesus, don’t stop,” he says, and dives back in.

Emily keeps her voice low. “I bet he’s been thinking about this all day,” she says, and Lovett bangs his head back against the door, breathing hard. “I bet he was thinking about it during the pod. ‘Jon Lovett: a better way to fuck.’”

Lovett knocks his head back against the door again. “Emily,” he says and then, “ah, Favs,” and then nothing but wordless gasps in time with Jon’s bobbing head. Finally, he forces out, “Favs, Favs, I’m gonna,” and Jon’s hand gropes for Emily’s as Lovett comes down his throat.

Lovett goes boneless and slides down the door. Jon leans forward to kiss him, long and sloppy. Emily reminds herself to breathe. 

Jon leans back and takes a deep breath. “Stay put,” he says, pointing at both of them. He pushes to his feet, a little wobbly, and disappears to the bathroom. 

He's back in just a few seconds and makes a beeline for Emily. His kiss is mint-flavored and she smiles into his mouth. Then he goes to his knees and slides her already damp underwear down her legs. 

When he gets his mouth on her, she hums happily and slides her fingers into his hair. He's sucking on her clit, pausing occasionally to use his teeth very gently just the way she likes it. Next to them, Lovett is staring, fascinated. 

She doesn't scream when she comes this time, but it's close. 

Jon stands and is out of his shoes and pants while she's still coming down from it and hoists her up the wall in one smooth move. He guides her down on his cock and somewhere near them, Lovett says, “Holy fuck.”

Emily fumbles for the front of her dress and her bra, freeing a breast for Jon to get his mouth on. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and holds on as he thrusts in her. 

Jon drags his open mouth up her throat and gets his mouth on hers just as he comes. She’s just a few seconds behind him and sobs out her orgasm into his kiss. 

He lowers her gently to the floor and Emily stands for just a second before collapsing next to Lovett. He's pulled his boxers back on but otherwise hasn't moved. “Heya," he says, waving a hand. 

“Hey yourself," she says. 

She and Lovett laugh at Jon as he tries and fails to pull his pants on; he laughs too and collapses in front of them in his boxer briefs and dress shirt. Emily sighs and tips over to lean her head on Lovett's shoulder. "I'm glad you came over," she says. Jon giggles a little.

Lovett laughs, but it doesn't sound right. He taps the top of her head. "I think I have the wrong Favreau clinging to me," he says.

"Clinging," Emily says scornfully, but she picks her head back up, feeling her cheeks flush from embarrassment. "Way to kill the afterglow, Lovett."

He waves at Jon. "Afterglow over there, not with your random extraneous dude."

"Knock that off," Jon says. "You're not extraneous _or_ random. Why the fuck do you think you're here?"

Lovett pulls his shirt down over the top of his boxers. "Open marriages are fun and Jon figured I'm great in bed? Which is not untrue, I'm just saying."

Emily puts a hand out and pulls it back, not sure how Lovett would take an attempt at physical contact. “Stop saying things like that,” she says, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. “You’re not a 'random' dude or here for your dick, you’re not a boytoy. You’re Jon Lovett, and we asked you here. Not Jon, not me for Jon. _We_ invited you.”

He climbs to his feet and reaches down for his jeans. "How many times do I have to tell you, I don't need you to dress it up? I'm fine being a fifth wheel. I love being a fifth wheel."

"You know we care about you? You know _I_ care about you, right?” she asks, her heart in her throat.

He gives her a look that's probably supposed to be a smile, but she can see he's angry and she leans back. "You know I'm gay, right, Emily?"

It’s not like everything stops - she can see Pundit and Leo through the door in the backyard, noses touching, and Jon is saying something she can’t quite make out - but her mind goes offline, full of static, for a second.

 _He just doesn't understand_ is her first thought, then _goddammit, he understands, he just doesn't give a shit_ , and finally, _he's never lied, you're the one who tried to shove your way into a relationship, you asshole_.

Oh shit, there’s tears coming, she can just feel them. “No, totally, sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn't mean to - I'm sorry I made you feel -” Shit, shit, she can’t think of _words_. “Sorry!” she says again, and all but runs from the room.

“Emily!” Jon calls after her, but she can’t right now. She just can’t.

***

She settles for crawling into bed only because she can’t fit under it, and she can’t make out what Jon and Lovett are half-shouting at each other but she listens miserably to them fighting until finally the front door slams and Jon stomps into the room.

He stops short when he sees her huddled outline. “Honey.”

“I fucked up, babe,” she says.

“No, Lovett fucked up, and I told him so.”

“Oh, good, now your relationship with him is messed up because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“ _Em_.” He crawls in bed with her. “You’ve been the one all along telling me to talk about my feelings.”

“Well, that was silly of me,” she says, plastering herself against his chest. “Don’t listen to my advice.”

“We’re gonna be okay,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.”

She waits until he’s asleep to cry.

***

Emily wakes up the next morning with the kind of headache and sour stomach that usually means some really good memories from the night before. Instead she just groans into her pillow. _Good job, Em_ , the shame that’s been living in her head since she left the living room sneers at her. _You took a good thing and killed it because you just couldn’t stop pushing_. She should go find Jon and check on him, but honestly she just can’t face him right now. She drags herself to the bathroom to clean last night’s tears off her cheeks and then gives in to weakness and hides under the covers again.

She wakes up some time later to the comforting warmth of Leo against her back and Jon looking at her from the doorway. “Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” she says, her voice still a little rough.

Pundit trots into the room and woofs up at Leo; Emily looks up at Jon. “Yeah, he’s here,” Jon says. “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”

She should probably get up and go out there, but bed feels safer. “He can come in,” she says.

Jon looks over his shoulder, but Lovett is already there. He looks miserable. “Hi, Emily.”

“I owe you an apology,” she says.

Both of them jerk a little when she says that; Jon comes over to sit on the edge of the bed and Lovett sits down on the floor by the bed and pulls Pundit into his lap.

“You really don’t,” Lovett says. “You’ve been trying to tell me something for days, and instead of listening I made it a joke. I suck. Oh, hey, that gets a smile from you?”

“Maybe,” Emily said. Jon isn’t smiling exactly but he looks a little less concerned.

“I did a lot of thinking last night,” Lovett says. “And a lot of googling, actually. And basically the internet told me I was stupid.”

Emily tries not to laugh, and finally Lovett cracks a smile. He reaches out and takes her hand; Jon immediately wraps his hand around them both.

“There’s all sorts of terms and definitions and I think I have a reading list,” Lovett says, “but it just really comes down to - I have loved Favs for a long time, you know that, and I think it blinded me.” HIs voice is soft. “I didn’t know I could be gay and love you too, I’m so sorry, Emily.”

To her utter embarrassment, Emily bursts into tears.

“Oh, hey, no,” Lovett says, and starts to pull back, but both Jon and Emily hold onto his hand and won’t let go. “No crying, what did I do wrong, don’t cry, Em.”

“It’s okay, I just really love you too, and I thought I ruined everything.”

“A, that was me with the ruining, and B, nothing’s ruined. Um.” Lovett looks up at Jon. “Right?”

“God, you’re dumb. Get up here,” Jon says, and Emily tries to not cry all over again when they kiss.

Lovett looks down at Emily. “All right, scooch over,” he says, and toes his shoes off. She scoots back, dislodging a complaining Leo, and Lovett climbs under the covers fully clothed and wraps his arms around her. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel,” he says, “but it freaks me out when you cry, please don’t.”

“I’ll work on it,” she says.

He drops a kiss on her lips, on her nose, and on her forehead. “Good.”

The bed shifts as Jon climbs in behind Lovett, and Emily snuggles in closer as he wraps his arms around them both. “I love both of you,” he says. “In case anybody wondered.”

“We didn’t,” Emily and Lovett say in unison. Jon just laughs.

***

The end credits roll and all four of them break into excited chatter - Emily cuddled between Lovett and Jon on one couch and Tommy stretched out with both dogs on the other. Finally they’ve run out of theories, and Tommy gives both dogs goodbye pats and heads to the door.

“I can’t emphasize how much I still don’t want to know anything,” he says, one hand on the door, “but for the record, I’m happy for you.”

Emily beams at Tommy, one hand over Lovett’s mouth to head off whatever TMI crack that has without a doubt occurred to him. Tommy just grins and lets himself out.


End file.
